Light up the Darkness
by SilverStarsFalling
Summary: Jaylea has been blind for 9 years now. She's dealt with being "the blind girl" for so long now along with the death of her father how will she handle a new town, Forks, and the strange teens and the man who claims his love for her on first sight?
1. Chapter 1

_Jaylea's name is pronounced Jay-Lee. I know this is slow going so please be patient with me. I'm not completely sure what I want to do with this story, pretty much going along with it and trying to see where it'll end up. Please review. I wanna know if this story is worth continuing. Thanks. _

My name is Jaylea. On July 4th, 2006 I played outside with my little brother Philip. I had just turned 9 two weeks before. It was twilight; I remember the fire flies dancing around. Philip thought they were stars. We played with fire works while our parents were in the back yard grilling with the rest of our family. They didn't know what we were up to. The rest is kinda fuzzy, I remember lighting another one and standing too close. The sparks went crazy and then it exploded in my face. The pain made me pass out but not before Philips piercing scream cut through the night air like a blade.

I lost my sight that day. It's been 9 years ever since.

"Jaylea Tia Moore, come on!" I hate it when mom uses my full name.

We're leaving for Forks now. My mom thinks that moving, running away, is the best solution for when things so wrong. Mom is a baker, one of the best I've ever met. She can turn some frosting into a perfect replica of any shape or form, her cakes, pies, cookies, pudding, it's all amazing. I used to wanna be a baker too. Not anymore.

This time we're leaving because mom yelled at her boss and got fired. Also because I got in a fight at school and was suspended.

"I'm right here mom." I mutter going to stand by her, following the scent of her vanilla perfume to the car. I don't know what my mom looks like but from my memory she has golden ringlets and cat-like green eyes, her smile can bring out the best in people, her hugs heel broken arms and scraped knees and … okay, I may be exaggerating a little bit here but still. I don't remember what I look like and I've never asked anyone. It just aint something I've ever been preoccupied with.

"Philip!" Mom called over to where Philip was sitting with his girlfriend, Cathy; I can smell his deodorant and her coconut shampoo, one of the perks of being blind- your other sense are enhanced. Just turned 13 two months ago and the boy already has a girlfriend. I didn't have my first boyfriend till I was 15! And it lasted for two weeks! Unbelievable…

I hear him say goodbye and smell salt water tears starting to run down Cathy's face. Poor kid.

Lucky for me, I only had to say goodbye to two people, Mitchell and Anna, who really weren't my friends but just separate loners who needed a table to sit at during lunch.

I hear Philips footsteps running up to us and raise my hand just as he's climbing in the car to ruffle his hair. From what I remember, Philip has golden blond hair and fair skin but every time I think of my lovable little brother I picture the tiny, angelic 4 year old boy from my memories. I have to remind myself sometimes that he's taller now.

I climb in after him, taking my seat and buckling in.

I hear mom fondling around her purse for the car keys but she finds them at last. The engine roars to life and were off. The tires moving over the concrete fills my ears but I tune it out with the radio, mom adores classical music and she pops in a CD of Chopin.

"Alright, you both will be going to Forks High. Philip your skipping a grade so you'll be a freshman," I hear the movement of the air as Philip pumps his fist up and hiss a "yes!" Mom continues ignoring him. "Jaylea you'll be a senior, see if you can get a fellow student to help show … uh, help you get around." She changes her words quickly remember that I can't see anything anyone tries to show me.

I hate the first few weeks of a new school, having to memorize how many steps between each class, in the hall, the stairs, etc. And of course always people treating the new girl like she's a retard. I'm blind people! Not stupid!

Nobody is my family is stupid at all really. Philip is smart enough to skip his 8th grade year apparently. Dad was smart enough to be a brain surgeon. Moms really smart too, she's the only reason I passed physics, let alone any other math related subject.

I rest my head back and try to imagine Forks, last night Philip and I had looked up info on the small town with the oh so handy Internet. He had read the words to me and described what it looked like from the minimal amount of pictures. He had read, "'Forks is in the heart of the Olympic Peninsula, between the Olympic Mountains and the Pacific Ocean beaches. The population was 3,120 at the 2000 census. Forks is under a near constant over-cast and it rains just about everyday…'" Pretty soon we decided this was boring and I made him some blueberry pancakes, his favorite, for dinner. I had dubbed Forks boring after about the first sentence but I loved listening to his voice too much to ask him to shut up. Philips voice is so clear, and gentle. It's still young too not fully developed.

I'm usually the one making us dinner; mom was working pretty late at this job. She worked at some restaurant making the deserts. Perfect job for mom.

I'm not exactly sure when my thoughts became my dream…

_I was 9, sitting down in our old kitchen on the tiled floor. It was hot; mom was just taking some brownies out of the oven. _

_I used to love watching mom cook she always got so engrossed in what she made. Her face was the mask of both peace and focus. _

"_Jaylea?" Mom is peering down at me now with a worried expression. She looks exactly like she does from my memories. _

_With a chill racing up my spine I notice the dark blurriness of the edges of my dream. The darkness grows, slowly covering my eyes like a blanket. Back then I was terrified of the dark. I remember waking up in the middle of the night screaming because I couldn't see. Then I couldn't see during the day or night. _

"_Jay-" Moms voice is cut off when I'm suddenly jerked awake. _

"What?" I ask, my eyes flying open jumping in my seat.

"Wake up Jaylea we're here." Philips voice murmurs around a yawn. What time is it? Getting out of the car I notice the distinct change in atmosphere from before. The sun must either be down or it's over-cast; I feel no heat on my face or bare arms. The wind blows sharply and I shudder, wishing I'd remembered what Philip had said about the weather in Forks and had not wore a tank-top and blue jeans. Bad idea.

"Here," Philips voice is closer now, outside the car with me. "It's your blue Jefferson High hoodie." I feel the soft fabric against my arms and pull it on. I've had this school sweat shirt since 10th grade in Oregon.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." I love the sincerity I hear in his voice.

"Okay, let's get our stuff inside then." Moms soprano voice says from where I'm guessing is behind the trunk… yeah, her vanilla perfume is coming from back there… the wind will definitely be helpful when it comes to my sense of smell. "Jaylea, I got your viola with me I'll put it in your room."

I always get a little uneasy whenever someone touches my viola. It's not like I can see what their doing.

I reach in and swing my backpack over my shoulder and grab my other two bags in my hands, recognizing them because there the only ones with leather handles. I follow Philips footsteps into the house; mom must be holding the door open.

"I can smell the rain getting ready to come down," I tell mom this as I walk by.

"Well, we only have one more bag. I'll get it!" Her voice carries off in the direction of the car and I hear her slam the trunk.

"Okay Jaylea," Philips voice is somewhat serious next to me, "There's 15 stairs about 5 or 6 feet in front of you. To your left is the kitchen to you right is the living room. I'll show you your room." This is our standard routine for a new house. I'll have to memorize exactly how many foot steps between each area and so on. I'm used to it; it used to drive me crazy though.

I follow his voice and his footsteps keeping pace with mine next to me as we make our way up the stairs. Philip is always humming or something, out of habit, so I know precisely where he is. He really doesn't need to do that nowadays though since I've gotten used to the smell of his deodorant and clean-smelling guy shampoo.

He was right about the 15 stairs part.

"Alright so to your left appears to be a bathroom, the only one. To your right is my room, roughly 5 feet away is your room also to the right. A closet is across from your room and at the end is a window." He opens the doors. I listen to the familiar sound, and then tap the glass of the window.

"Moms room?" I ask.

"Down stairs, the living room leads into it."

I swallow and think about where he said my bedroom was and the sound of him opening the door, the_ click_ as he closed it. Philip is silent but I know he's still there, I can hear the subtle sound of his breathing.

I put the bag I'd been holding in my right hand down and slowly, cautiously, raise my hand. The feel of cool wood answers my wandering fingers and I slide my hand down to where I presume the door knob to be. It takes a few seconds but my hand eventually finds the cold brass, I turn it and push. The door opens; I feel the change in the air against my face.

Philip grabs my bag and walks in with me. He must have recently gone through a growth spurt; his footsteps are so much clumsier now.

"How tall are you Philip?"

"Uh, 5'8 last I checked. Mom thinks I grew a couple more inches though."

"Huh, you're taller than me." I say, remembering the last time mom had taken me to the doctors for a check-up. They measured me at 5'6.

Philip chuckles and I try to picture the 4 year old boy from my memories as a 5'8 teenager. I couldn't.

"So, what's my room look like?" I ask, taking slow steps forward till my legs bumped into something soft.

"That's your bed. It's twin-sized and your viola is on it too. Uh, the walls are white, the floor is wood, there's a desk right here," he says this tapping on the wood of the desk, "for your computer I guess. Um, there's a bookshelf right here," I follow his voice with my unseeing eyes and he taps the bookshelf. "There's a small closet and dresser." He knocks on these both walking past the. "Two windows on both sides of your bed. No curtains or anything. Two matching nightstand on both sides of you bed too." His voice wanders over in front of me, a little to the left standing, where I guess, must be the window because he's tapping on the glass. "And that's just about it. You want me to help ya get all your stuff set up?"

"No that's fine. You go check out your room; I'll survive a few moments alone I think." It's a little bitter joke we have, how you'll very rarely ever find us without the other.

I haul my bags to rest on my bed and open the one with my Hopkinsville High Tigers key-chain, from the two months we spent in Kentucky; this one has all my clothes, my quilt, and pillow. I make my bed, having to re-do it a few times when I noticed I put it all on wrong. Then I set to the task of getting all my clothes in the proper drawers and closet hangers. This takes some time because I have to check each item before I put it in to make sure it's not really a skirt when I think it's a shirt or something like that. Finally I've finished with the first bag.

One down, two to go.

My second bag has some house warming things I pretty much take with me wherever we go. Its a few posters, despite the fact I can't see them I still like having them, some jewelry, really just two pairs of fake diamond earrings which I never wear and a ring that I have to keep around a chain because its too small for my fingers, alarm clock that says out load what time it is when I press a button, and all my toiletries. After getting all this set up I take to my backpack.

My backpack is pretty much full of books, Braille written of course. I love reading, even if it is just by touch. I'm stuck in the middle of **_In Search of Lost Time_**** by** Marcel Proust right now so I don't put this up on the shelf I just toss it on the bed hearing is soft thump.

"Hey, dinner will be done in half an hour." Moms voice says from the doorway, she always speaks softly when she's coming up behind me 'cause she's afraid she'll scare me. I heard her footsteps coming up the stairs and her breathing as she stood in my doorway watching me put up my things. It's kinda hard to surprise me nowadays.

"M'kay." I mutter more to myself than to her. Moms' footsteps move down the stairs and she hums quietly to herself in the kitchen.

Finally finished unpacking I press the large, familiar button on my alarm clock.

_5:14 p.m._, the monotonous voice announces_._ I still got awhile till time to eat so I lay down on my bed, resting on my stomach with my feet crosses in the air. I open _In Search of Lost Time_ and start off where I left. My sensitive finger tips trace along the lines feeling the raised bumps.

"C' Mon, Jaylea. Time for dinner." Philips voice calls from the doorway. I'd been so entranced in my latest novel that I hadn't heard his approach or breathing, for the first time in a long time I was startled. But I hid it well and, after placing my bookmark on the page, trudged down the stairs not feeling very hungry.

Turning left I found my bare feet on top of cold tiles and the appetizing smell of steak and potatoes filled my nostrils. "Mom, I'm not really hungry right now."

"You should eat something DJ; you got a big day tomorrow." Moms voice spoke, she must be sitting down her voice came from below me. Mom is actually 5'8 so she has to be sitting down.

"I'm really not hungry." I say again.

Mom sighs, Philip is cutting his steak, and the knife scraps the plate before he stops. I cringe at the noise.

Mom doesn't say anything but I can imagine her pursed lips and furrowed brow. I make my way back up the stairs and close my door behind me.

I fall on my bed, a bit on intention, and keeping my face buried in the pillow start tracing my fingers over the bumps of my current reading.

By the time I stopped my clock told me it was _12:48 p.m. _Ugh. Great, not only will I be the new, blind kid tomorrow at school but I'll also have trouble keeping my eyes open. Just great.

Philips television alarms me. What the hell is he doing still up? I groan as I push myself up and the bed squeaks loudly.

"Philip, why are you still up?" I ask opening his door, forgetting to knock yet again. Oh, well.

"Eh, can't sleep. And its only Saturday you know. We don't have school till Monday. I was wondering whether mom reminded you of that or not."

"Well, she did not." I say going to sit next to him, tousling his hair as I do. "What are you watching?" I ask trying to make sense of all the voice coming from the tiny TV set.

"It's a commercial for some day spa in Port Angelus." He says around a yawn.

"You should go to sleep." His breathing sounds tired.

"Yeah I could say the same to you big 'sis." I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Why can't you sleep?" I ask.

His shoulder shrugs against mine. "Just can't."

"Wanna go for a walk? Get a feel on the town?"

"Okay." He says suddenly awake and chirpy. He helps me up and guides me outta his room, since I haven't gotten used to it yet, with his hand on the small of my back. We tip-toe quietly down the stairs as to not wake mom which isn't totally necessary. Mom is one of the deepest sleepers I've ever met.

I never changed out of my hoodie and jeans and Philip grabbed himself a jacket on our way out.

We usually do this every time we move someplace new; it makes it easier the next day. Especially for me if I know what to expect.

Philip is murmuring everything around us in careful description. We only have one neighbor that he can see and even that house is awhile away. It's a two-story and has a police cruiser in it and a big tree.

After about half an hour more on walking and listening I begin to smell the rain planning on coming down on us.

"We better head back, it's gonna rain soon." I say and we start a haste walk back to the house.

"So what do ya think of our new town?" Philip asks as we climb up the stairs.

"It's very … quant. Small. Simple. Probably won't be hard to adjust to." I say.

"That's good. See ya in the morning Jaylea."

"See ya." I mumble, the tendrils of sleep starting to pull me under. I hear the _click_ of Philip closing his door and mine follows soon after.

I crawl under my quilt and try to drone out the rain beating against my windows. I can't so I grab my CD player, plug it in, and after shuffling through my CD's I decide on something peaceful. I put in Bach, Air on a G String. I allow my mind to be carried away on the soft music.


	2. Chapter 2

Thankfully, my night was dreamless. Sadly, I awoke barely 4 hours later.

_4:50 a.m._, the clock said in its dull robotic voice.

My CD player stopped hours ago. I take out Bach and put in Blink 182, this time getting lost in the guitar riffs and the voice of Tom Delonge and Mark Hoppus. It's an odd combination of my CD's. I have a little bit of every type of music actually. Philip says that when it comes to music I'm a complete schizophrenic.

A soft knock on the door brings my attention back from Travis Barkers drum solo.

"Jaylea?" Philips soft voice carries through the wood.

"Come in." I answer him quietly.

"I, uh, still can't sleep." He sounds embarrassed; his tired footsteps come over and sit next to me on my bed. I sit up against the wall.

"You want me to play for you?" When Philip was younger he was haunted with nightmares, only my playing could get him to sleep again.

"Please?"

"Sure." I saw stifling a yawn and reaching for my viola case. Taking it out, I get ready and attack the strings with my bow, careful as ever. I keep it peaceful, gentle and I drift into Philips lullaby that I created not long after I first started playing the viola. But you never really learn the viola though; it's such a tender instrument. You can make it sound like angels singing, but one small accident, the tiniest of mistakes, and it will screech and shriek the most horrific noise. I'm lucky Forks has a music program, the last two high schools didn't have anything with the viola it was all drums and guitars which I'm fine with but there's something about the viola that always called to me. At those high schools we had to pay for private teachings from a college professor who mom dated for awhile. He was a sleaze for trying to get with my mom but his playing was magical.

I keep playing even when I hear Philips soft snore next to me on the bed just for the hell of it. I got some practice in this morning, or yesterday morning before we left but every time I start to play it feels like the first time all over again.

Mom wanted me to try the violin like she learned but my heart just wasn't in it. To me, the viola seems like the wise old grandmother of the violin. Olga Goija is my idol. She's one of the best viola players there is.

My playing drifts away from his lullaby and into a piece I'd been practicing, Mozart viola quintet g minor. The mood of the piece is dark and melancholic, typical of Mozart's other G minor works. It doesn't sound as beautiful with just me playing, it's meant for two violins, two violas, and cello but I play it anyway adding the other musical instruments from memory in my mind. I swear I think I listen to this piece 40 times a day!

After this I build a bridge into a piece I wrote a few years back I call, _Taste the Sky_. It's a happy quick piece and I mess up a few times because sleep is starting to cloud my mind again.

By the time I'm done the clock says its, _6:22 a.m. _

Lovely.

With a sigh I put my viola back in its case and place it gently on the wooden floor.

Philip is sprawled all around me, laying on his stomach, his arm draped across my lap his left leg hanging off the bed his right one laying in an uncomfortable fashion.

"Philip, come on." I tenderly shake his shoulder and he stands, half asleep with his eyes barely open. I lead him to his room and pull his comforter over him. "Night little 'bro." I caress his cheek for less than a second and walk out slowly.

In my room I take out the Blink 182 CD and put in Yiruma, permitting his piano to fill my mind not giving me any room to think about the coming Monday. I'm asleep right after my favorite of his, _Kiss the Rain_, ends.

The sudden warmth on my face wakens me, must be the sun light. Drat. What ever happened to near constant cover of rain and clouds?

I pull the quilt over my head but it's not enough. Yiruma is currently playing _A River Flows in You_, I try to imagine me playing it on my viola but my nostrils are filled with the smell of blueberry pancakes, my stomach growls. Ugh. Hunger.

I pretty much fall outta bed and trudge down the stairs, not bothering to turn off my CD player.

"Morning honey." Mom says, placing breakfast on the table. I follow the sound and reach out with my hand to grip a soft wooden chair. I sit cautiously, I'm always nervous that I'm about to fall on my butt whenever I sit down.

"Morning Mom." I say, reaching out in the direction the smell of muffins is coming from, my finger tip finds the cool surface of the bowl and traces up to the warm chocolate chip muffin. I nibble on this for awhile waiting on the pancakes.

I hear the squeak of Philips bed as he gets up, jeez these walls are thin, and his footsteps down the stairs. He takes a seat by me giving an incomprehensible greeting and grabs a muffin.

I hear a plate set before me and mom puts a fork in my hand. I set to work on making my pancake disappear, listening to Philip do the same.

"So, Jaylea," Mom says sitting by me and cutting her own pancake with a fork, "Forks High has a decent music program but they don't have a viola instructor so I called one of Port Angelus and he said you would have to audition but other than that he would love to teach you. Also, you could maybe start a job at Forks High teaching the viola like you did in Texas with the elementary school." Mom kept talking but I started to tone her out, silently in my mind playing _Racing the Wind_, a piece I wrote in 7th grade.

Philip I'm sure can see this on my face.

After breakfast Philip and mom went grocery shopping, I stayed home to practice. Mom almost made Philip stay home too so he could practice his piano but he went with her in the end.

I put in 4 hours of practice at the least everyday, but usually I play longer staying up way too late.

While playing I think about where me and my trusty viola will be going; Julliard, Concerts, Orchestra's. I don't wanna be a solo violist though, I belong in an orchestra where each instrument has to work together to form the most perfect harmony. If one instrument messes up it can ruin the entire fragile piece. I'm not usually shy, but my playing is apart of me. To let someone else see it, hear it, feel its presence flowing around them, makes me feel all too vulnerable. I've played solo's before, I've toughed it out but to my preference I want a whole group of fellow musicians to be there right beside me.

I'm just getting to my favorite part of _Song of Praise_ when my peaceful serenity was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a sigh I gently place my viola on my bed and make my way to the door. I feel for the knob for awhile and open it.

"Hello?" I ask, I hate having to answer doors. I can't ever tell who's on the other side. I don't recognize their smell but it's definitely two people. A guy and girl. The guy smells like, well, a guy. The girl smells like strawberries.

Their silent. Oh! I forgot my glasses, the ones that are tinted so dark you can't see my gray, scary eyes. Well, too late now.

One of them clears their throat; the sound is deep and gruff. I think it came from the man. "Err, yes. Uh, I'm Charlie Swan and this is my daughter, Bella. We're your neighbors." He's speaking loudly, because he thinks I'm deaf too like everyone else. I actually have way better hearing than him. "We just wanted to come and welcome ya'll to Forks. Heard you were new."

"Oh, would you like to come in? I'm Jaylea by the way." I mutter wanting to slam the doors in their faces. Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I can't hear you! Stop trying to make me deaf too! "My mom and brother are out right now, it's just me." I step aside giving them room to come in.

I close the door behind them carefully, not wanting to give them anymore reason to think I'm an idiot.

I walk to the kitchen, maneuvering around Charlie and Bella with ease. "You want some muffins or something to drink? We don't really have much to eat; Mom and Philip, my little brother, are out getting some groceries."

"No thanks." Charlie's deep voice says.

"N-no thank you." Bella's voice is much higher than his, softer too. She stutters.

I hop up on the counter, bumping the back of my head against the cabinet slightly but I don't show any surprise or pain.

"So, are you going to Forks High?" Charlie asked being braver than Bella.

"Yup," I say and shrug. I really wish they would get out so I could go back to my viola.

"Bella will be going there too, she's a junior."

"I'm a senior." I respond automatically, my voice a monotone.

I hear someone, Bella I think, sigh.

"Uh, you're starting Monday right?" Charlie asks filling the awkward silence.

"Yup."

"Well Bella could give you a ride to the school if you want." Charlie says, and Bella gasps. Well, apparently someone didn't ask there daughter if that was okay.

"S' okay, I was just gonna walk with Philip. He'll be a freshman."

"Bella can give him a ride too then if it's alright with ya'll mom." Jeez, this guy just won't budge.

"No really I need to get used to the town."

"DJ, we're back!" Mom calls, sounding surprised that she couldn't hear my viola.

"In here." I say.

"Oh! Hey there." Mom says walking towards me and placing some groceries that must be in plastic bags next to me. "Off the table DJ." I hop down and lean against it instead.

"Mom this is Charlie and Bella Swan; they're our neighbors. Bella's gonna be a new kid at Forks High too." I say yawning. I really need to get some decent sleep tonight.

"Hello, I'm Jen and this is Philip." I hear Philips footsteps trudging inside; his arms must be full of groceries with the way he's walking.

"Hey." Philip mutters putting groceries on the table.

"So, uh, Bella here just got a new truck, she's be happy to give your kids a ride to and from school." Charlie says. I glare in the direction his voice came from.

"Well that's very nice of you Bella. Thank you so much, Jaylea and Philip say thanks."

"Thanks," we mumble quietly, I can almost picture an annoyed glare on his face matching mine.

"Well alright, so tomorrow morning Bella will be here to give ya'll a lift to school." Charlie says. I wish he'd shut the hell up. I don't need his darling daughter's help nor do I want it.

I sigh and Charlie says something about getting home to dinner or whatever but of course mom has to say, "Oh, you can just stay here for dinner if you'd like. It's the least I can do. I'll make some chocolate fudge cake too for desert." No one can resist moms chocolate fudge cake, I mean even the name sounds good. Charlie, to my unhappiness, graciously says yes and now here I am. In my room with Bella Swan talking about … nothing. What are we supposed to say to each other?

I've never been good at making friend. Ever. That's why moving around so much is so easy for me. Its harder for Philip, people can't resist loving him. They deal with me.

"So, where are you moving from?" Bella asks in a small voice. At least she isn't trying to break my ear drums like her dad.

"Oregon, and before that California. I've lived in a lot of places." I say with a slight shrug. "What 'bout you?"

"Phoenix. I lived with my mom."

"Yeah I lived in Phoenix. That lasted about half a year before we moved again."

"Why do you move around so much?" She sounded as bored as I felt.

I shrug again. "Don't know. Lots of reasons I guess. This timed we moved because I got suspended from school and my mom lost her job." I don't really wanna go into detail about how my mom thinks that the solution to every problem is run away; find a new town, new job, new faces, and new voices. "So what's your dads' job?"

She paused but then sounded like she just now noticed something; I wish I could see her facial expression right now. "Oh! He's, um, chief of police."

I nod pretending to ponder over that when I was really praying that she would leave so I could practice some. Finally, my patience all but vanished. "I'm gonna practice my viola okay." It wasn't a question but still she answered.

"Yeah that's fine." And then she fell silent again but I knew she was still there.

I ignored her presence, pretended not to smell her strawberry shampoo or hear her breathing, as I started playing. It would be easier to play in front of people if I could see their reaction. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

I start playing my own piece, _Raining Tears_, which is actually very sad. I wrote this my sophomore year when dad died.

I hear Philip practicing his piano downstairs. I recognize one of my favorites from Chopin but I block it out. Now, there is nothing but me and viola. We are alone in our own world where there is no moving around, dead fathers, annoying neighbors, new schools, constant darkness, Mondays, loud rain, or skipping CD players.

When I've finished the piece Bella says in her shy little voice, "Wow that was … beautiful Jaylea. That was really … don't get offended but it was also really … sad." Her voice is guarded waiting for me to lash out. Damn this girl needs some backbone.

I smile encouragingly. "Thanks, do you play any instruments?"

"I took some piano lessons when I was a kid but no, not really."

"Well, I've been thinking about giving some viola lessons to earn some cash. You interested?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Thanks, but no thanks." She says with an awkward laugh.

I smell dinner, the spaghetti being set on our table. "C'mon. Dinners ready." I say getting up after putting my viola back in its case. Slowly walking down the stairs I find our spaghetti finished and waiting. Philips still playing his piano, I recognize Mozart and smile to myself taking my seat.

Everyone in my family is a musician, moms a violinist, I'm a violist, Philips a pianist, and dad was a guitarist and he played the flute too. I used to have an Aunt Shelly, moms sister, but she died when I was 11 from lung cancer. She was a cellist.

Mom makes Philip come and eat and we're all quiet, it's just the sound of breathing and the scrape of forks on plates with the occasional drink from some water or coke.

I take a sip of water.

Well, this is uncomfortable.

The dinner thankfully doesn't last long and Charlie and mom are in the living room eating some of her chocolate fudge cake. Bella and I go back up to my room. Philip goes back to his piano to start back where he left off.

"Will you play some more?" Bella suddenly blurts out as I close the door.

"Err, sure." I get my viola and start playing _Streaming Lights_ which is actually the piece my last instructor, Mr. Young, taught me and it's by far the most complicated piece I've ever played. I practice the piece the most 'cause it's the hardest and I'm pretty determined to master it.

The piece starts out slow but it builds up into an explosion of music. It's a high piece, and very quick. Mom thinks it's happy, Philip always thought is was sad, I always found it to be exhilarating. Mr. Young always said he found it to be very peaceful.

The piece is about 5 minutes long and I mess up a few times but I don't stop. "What'd you think?" I ask.

"It was very thrilling. I loved it." Bella's voice is sincere so I start to play Pendericki's concerto.

When I'm finished with this I stop for a second.

"You're really good. I mean, you should, like, go to Julliard or something." Bella's voice is still sincere.

"Thanks, that's the plan actually- Julliard."

We spend the rest of the night with me playing, her listening, and Philip down stairs playing his own instrument.

After two hours or so Charlie and Bella leave and I take another hour to play _Hopeful Thinking_, a submissive piece I wrote with the help of an old instructor, Miss Uptown and a few other passive pieces to help calm my nerves, before I go to take a shower.

My muscles feel so taut with the knife of tomorrow hanging over my head; the hot water helps some.

I climb into bed; hair still wet hanging down to the small of my back. I've often wondered what color my hair was…

_Chp. 3 will be coming up soon. Thanks for the reviews I got so far, keep 'em coming! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

My alarm sounds, the radio coming on. I wake up to Aerosmith playing _Jaded_, I just lay there for a few seconds listening to Steve Tyler sing before, with a heavy sigh, I climb outta bed and trudge over to my dresser. I keep my hands out in front of my till I feel the soft wood.

"Need some help?" Mom asks coming in. How is she always so damn chirpy and alive so friggin' early in the morning?

"Please." I mutter leaning against the wall while mom goes through my drawers.

"It's chilly outside, supposed to rain. How 'bout your long-sleeved black V-neck and some dark jeans and you can just wear your jacket over the shirt. Here's your converse." Mom tosses my old raggedy converse on my bed, one shoe falls off the side. She lays the clothes on the bed too and walks out, leaving my room to smell like vanilla.

I put on the clothes trying to picture myself in them but, hell, I don't even know what I look like. I touch my hair, it falls to just above my butt, I wrap my arms around my waist, it's tiny and slender, I feel my skin, it's soft and smooth on my face, I trace the outline of my lips, they feel full and almost round, I brush my finger tips along my eye lashes, soft and surprisingly long. But I don't know what color my hair is. I don't know if my waist is really as slim as it feels. I don't know what my skin color is or my eye color. I don't know the real shape of my lips or their color. I don't know whether my eye lashes are brown or black or blond.

I get dressed concentrating on the fit of the clothes to make sure I don't put my shirt on backwards or something. Yes, it has happened before.

"Honey, you wanna wear some makeup?" Mom asks hopeful. She always asks this. Mom always wanted the perfect little girl who she could dress up as her own doll and play house with. By the time I was five I had already started to pick out my own clothes because she always made me wear frilly dresses and skirts.

I surprise myself by saying, "Sure." What the hell? I never wear makeup! Why wear make-up when I can't even see it?

I can almost imagine the shock on moms face. I can't imagine the shock on mine but it's certainly there.

"Great! Alright, well, sit down and we can get started."

I'm sitting there for what feels like an eternity but turned out to be barely 10 minutes. During such 10 minutes I had to undergo the torture of moms' makeup bag, the rough bristles brushing across my skin, some horrible sticky … _thing _pulling at my lashes forcing them to feel hard, stiff, and stick up, gooey liquid spread across my lips, and more hairs, but these are softer, on my eye lids. By the time she's done my face feels like she's painted it into someone else. I dare not raise a hand to touch my face though, not wanting to make the damage even worse.

"Okay honey. You look stunning." Mom says hugging me. I feel frozen. "Here are your glasses." Mom puts them in my hand.

"I don't want them." Again, I surprise myself. Usually I clung to these glasses to hide the glazed over gray eyes that I never like admitting are mine. Forks brings out the craziest in people obviously.

"O… kay." Mom says slowly. There's a loud roar of a truck outside. At first it sounds like thunder but then it grows quieter and stills - in our driveway? – and I hear the engine which is surprisingly noisy. "Ah, that must be Bella. You better get going, Jaylea-Baby." I race down the stairs thankful I didn't trip along the way and grab myself a banana heading out the door with my jacket. Philips footsteps come up behind me.

I take middle next to Bella and Philip ride passenger.

We're quiet on the way there. I pull out my I-pod and listen to Ray Charles the whole way there.

I'd much rather be walking right now with Philip as my guide. I used to have an eye-dog but mom's allergic and after about a week we had to take him back. Mom keeps trying to get me to use a walking stick but I always refuse, why would I want to make myself more of a freak?

It would be easier to get around if I didn't have to get used to a new town every few months. If we could just find some town that mom didn't feel the need to run away from after 5 months I could memorize how to get everywhere in a matter of days! At least then Philip could make some real friends too, she's already destroyed my social skills but I'll be damned if Philip doesn't grow up with friends. Of course that's never really been much of an issue with him; he's not at all shy and always knows what to say and how to say it. Every where we go Philip always makes friends. Always. I used to be kinda jealous at this but I've gotten over it; I like being an outsider. It's… easier.

I'm sure that by the end of the school day Philip will have already stolen the hearts of all the freshman girls and made several friends. As per usual.

Bella sighs. "We're the first here I guess."

I follow Philip out the door. He keeps one finger touching the back of my hand, I'm grateful I have him.

I listen to their footsteps and breathing as we move towards what I guess is the office. There's a garden nearby. Philip opens the door, Bella goes in first and I follow her strawberry smell. The room is warmer than outside and theirs a lot of flowers in here too; are they trying to grow a green house in here? Maybe this is the garden I smelled. Freesia, lilies, roses, and lilacs. Lovely.

"Hi, I'm Philip Moore, this is my sister, Jaylea Moore and this is Bella Swan. We're new." My little bro says in the direction where someone is typing rapidly on a key board. The woman smells like Dove soap.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Cole. Philip you're a freshman aren't you?" She paused and I presume Philip nodded next to me. "Alright well here's you schedule, I highlighted the routes that are easiest. And Jaylea Moore … and Bella Swan. Here's your schedules," I hear her breath catch, did she just now notice that I'm blind or something? Surely they were told about my unlucky eyesight issues, such as I have no eyesight. "Ah, uh, Jaylea we bought some Braille books they are already in your locker. Um, Bella you should help Jaylea get around." She didn't make it a question. Agh! I don't need help, damn it! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!

I scowled in the area the Dove soap aroma was coming from. Annoying, old bitch.

I hear Bella sigh to my right. She doesn't know how to get around either ya know!

"Thank you Mrs. Cole." Philip says in a voice that told me he was most definitely not thanking her in his mind.

We shuffled out the door then, it was drizzling outside.

Cars were starting to come in; I could hear them of course. They all sounded pretty lame, nothing fancy or anything and most of them sounded like the engines were about shot to hell. But then one car that didn't roar or growl like the others _purred_ its way in the lot. This is probably the most expensive car here.

I spent the majority of the morning trying to decipher what car that one had been exactly. It was certainly in good shape, probably a new model too, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe a small, new, Toyota or a hybrid. Yes, probably a hybrid. Hmm, maybe a Volvo perhaps…

I learned about cars from my second and last boyfriend, Ricky. He's probably the only guy who'll ever be able to look passed the glazed over eyes and understand why I'm so closed off. Ricky was certainly no loner like me, he had a large group of friends, an even larger amount of admirers, and a few close group of people that he was always found with, and for some strange unknown reason he chose me to belong in the close group of friends. He welcomed me like no other and when his friends joked about my blindness or tied to make me run into a wall he was always there to help me and make them shut the hell up. I can remember how he talked to me, like I was any other girl, like I wasn't lost in total darkness. I can remember how I spent countless nights staying up imagining what he looked like, I always saw him with brown hair and smooth skin, softer than silk and the first time I ran my finger through his tresses I was right; they were softer than silk. The first time I caressed his face around our kiss I found I was also right; his skin was smooth and clear of any acne. He was perfect and my happiness was complete the day he asked me to be his.

But nothing good ever lasts and our love only lasted for one year till mom dragged me away, kicking and screaming. That was the first time I ever put up a commotion about our constant moving around. I've never completely forgiven my mother for that either.

I followed Bella's strawberry scent around all day really not paying much attention at all to my surroundings. In between classes I counted the footsteps it would take to get from point A to point B and then try to memorize that. It took 39 steps to get from Spanish to Gym. 45 steps to get from Trigonometryto History. Most of my classes were in separate buildings which made this harder and Bella was a junior unlike me but luckily most my classes were on the way to hers. Sometimes people walked with us, Mike Newton seemed quite taken with Bella in a Golden Retrieve kinda way; he was polite enough to me, shy but nice. Jessica Stanley walked with us some but she ignored me the whole way; disturbed by my eyes I guess.

I met a few people but I was sure that by tomorrow I'd forget their names completely. Hell, even now I only recall a few names; Hailey, John, Bill, and Vicky. Vicky seemed nice and she played the saxophone too. The others were like Mike; kind to an extent but only out of good manners, although when my eyes found their faces they seemed to shut up.

Bella and I were walking alone to Lunch when she said, "So, are you gonna sit by me?" Her small voice made put me on edge. Did she want me to sit somewhere else? Did Jessica put her up to that? Did Mike?

"Nah, I'm just gonna get some reading done." I say with a shrug. I might as well, in English I got a reading list and by the end of the year I have to have an essay about each book. I'd already read more than half the list and written essays about most of them for my past schools. I'll just reuse those. Some of these other books are things I have wanted to read also. One of them is _In Search of Lost Time _so when I do find myself an empty table, with Bella's help that I grudgingly accepted, I sit down and get lost in my book while taking small sips of Diet Pepsi. The second I do sit down though, I notice a smell in the air way too perfect to be perfume or cologne or lotion. It's like … nothing I've ever smelled before. I try to ignore the scent but it won't leave me alone. It's polluting the air I breath, making me feel dizzy almost and making me want more. I take quick sniffs and look in the direction of the smell. I feel stares on my face but I don't drop my gaze.

I think the smell is coming from the table next to me; it's so close.

"Hi." I say, loud enough that I'm sure they heard. I force a smile.

"Hello." One dainty voice, like tinkling silver bells, rings out across to me. The voice matches the smell; too perfect.

"I'm Jaylea."

"Alice." The small voice sounds happy but cautious too, guarded. Not like Bella's shy voice, afraid of reprove, but more like she's just very wary about her surroundings. Me too.

I nod and take another sip.

"She's new here, just moved from Oregon. She's blind so her sense of smell is much greater than average. She can smell us easily, possibly because we are all here together." Another all too perfect voice, deep so I'm sure it's from a man, whispers quickly. I have to rewind and go over his words again to make sure I got them right. Gee, guess he didn't realize that my sense of hearing is enhanced to huh.

The man chuckles lightly.

Creep. I shake my head a little and launch myself back into my book, using my finger and sensitive touch to read.

Time flies by and I'm nearing the end of my book when I hear someone's approach. The footsteps are too light and graceful to be Bella's, they're whisper soft too. I have to strain my ears to focus on them.

A girl clears her throat delicately.

I raise my head, not surprised at all. "Yes?"

"Lunch is over, do you have Music next?" The voice is different from Alice's, more like wind-chimes than silver bells. Stronger and less dainty but still very feminine.

"Yeah, do you?" I ask gathering my things and walking in the direction I can smell the garbage from. Dumping my tray and praying that it actually went in, I turned to the woman. She smelled like the others, sweet and sugary and all too perfect but it was more subtle now. But still most definitely there.

"Yes. I'll walk you there. I'm Rosalie." I follow her scent and footsteps; she must be wearing heels, to the door. I hate having to follow strangers like this. How am I supposed to know their taking me where they're saying they are?

"Jaylea."

"I know."

We don't talk for a few seconds and I focus on her alluring aroma, trying to find specifics in it. I catch a hint of roses, and the grass after a summer rain, and … sunshine maybe? The scent is so strong, especially with me so close, it's hard.

"So, is Forks everything you ever dreamed of?" Rosalie asks with sarcasm dripping from each word.

"Oh sure, I always wanted to live in a small secluded town with zero sunshine and people who think they have to yell at me because I'm blind." I use the same tone. It's surprisingly easy to talk with Rosalie.

She gives a small, but genuine, beautiful laugh.

"I'm Alice's sister; you spoke with her during Lunch." Ah, that explains the smell.

"Oh, okay. You two smell alike." Did I really just say?

Rosalie laughs again and asks, "Do you play any instruments?"

"Yes, the viola. I've been playing that since I was 8. What 'bout you?"

"I play many instruments; the piano, violin, flute, guitar, drums, viola, cello, harp, saxophone, trombone, and the clarinet." She says proudly. No way. She must be kidding me.

"Are you serious?" I ask my disbelief showing through my careful emotionless mask.

"Yes, I'm serious. I have a lot of free time." Another small laugh. "Well, here we are." Rosalie opens the door for me and I follow her scent in. "Miss Byrd, this is Jaylea Moore, she's new here. She plays the viola." In front of Rosalie is the smell of sweet pea and wood.

I forgot to count my steps. Crap.

"Really, well, Jaylea I am Miss Byrd and we have a viola that you can practice with if you like?" They have a viola? Seriously? Yes!

"Yes … please." Rosalie laughs at the enthusiasm in my voice, so clear even I heard it.

"Alright then, here it is. It's already stringed and toned so don't worry 'bout that, you can play anywhere really, Rosalie will you show Jaylea around?" I cradled the viola she carelessly put in my hand.

I could hear other students playing and tuning their instruments. They all sounded very… out of practice?

"Of course." Rosalie said in a smug voice and I followed her scent over to a couple of seats. "Here," she put my hand, the one not holding the viola, on the chair and I sat down hearing her do the same, I stifled a cringes at her icy touch. Rosalie started playing the violin in a slow rhythmic pace. The song was sweet and perfectly executed. I joined in adding a harmony to her playing. The song was sad and my viola seemed to be giving off tears with each stroke of my bow. Suddenly a cello came into the picture and I recognized the all too perfect scent, this must be one of Rosalie's brothers or her sister. The cello made our piece heartbreaking with a deep crying that was done so faultless I wondered how many hours this person practiced a day. Then another violin slowly entered our tear-jerking piece and then a viola drifts in at just the right minute. I was surrounded by the sweet, sugary, inviting aroma. It filled my nostrils but I kept my mind focused.

It felt like I was pouring everything into the viola, my tortured love for Ricky, my despair of the complete darkness, the betrayal from mom, like it was just another part of my being. The part that I use for expression.

Then oh so gently the instruments started to flow away into silence and in the end it was just me and my viola when I followed them into stillness. I'm not exactly sure how long we played but it felt wonderful, like I had released so much of my own despair and sadness into the melancholic piece.

We were all quiet then, though they did not leave, as the music floated around us. I wondered what it looked like- music. I bet music is beautiful.

"Bravo!" Miss Byrd exclaims from somewhere behind us making me jump slightly. I hope no one noticed. Then we are surrounded my clapping and applause. I try to enjoy the moment but it's too loud, I feel disoriented. The sounds bounce off the walls attacking me again. Darkness, as usual, is everywhere but noise is everywhere too. Not a good combination. I want to cover my ears and scream to block out the entire annoying racket but I'm already classified as "The Blind Girl," I don't want to be known as the "Crazy, Blind Girl."

"Thank you." Rosalie says, her voice is grateful but at the same time demanding. Everyone stops clapping; now I feel grateful.

"You're very good Jaylea." A girl's voice says to my right, again making me jump. It takes a few minutes for me to realize that the trilling voice came from Alice. She spoke in the direction of the second violin, was she playing it? She's the one that's "very good."

"Thanks." I force the words around the rock in my throat.

"You are very talented Jaylea. I'm Jasper." A masculine, perfect voice says to my left, he must have been playing the other viola. The voice has a touch of a Southern Accent to it. Very nice.

Acid drips down my skin, flowing along my flesh as I remember Ricky's voice … just a touch of a Southern Accent.

Quickly erasing my face of emotion, I grip my bow harder.

"Thanks, you are too." My face feels hot.

"I'm Emmett; I was the rock star on the cello." A booming deep voice announces. I laugh a little.

"Hi, rock star." I say around a giggle.

We spend the rest of the period playing and occasionally joking around about something silly. By the time Music Period is done I've noticed small differences between the Cullen's, whereas they all smell absolutely amazing Alice's fragrance gives off a hint of honeysuckle and mangoes, Jaspers vaguely reminds me of gun powder and horses, Emmetts smell always makes me think of fur, like on an animal and sort of musky, like the woods, and Rosalie's scent has the floral odor of roses, I laughed a little at the irony in that.


	4. Chapter 4

"So what's your next class shorty?" Emmett's booming voice sounds loud even when I can tell he's just talking casually. His voice also comes from way above my head; I can guess why he's calling me shorty.

"Um … gym I think," I mutter pulling out my schedule and realizing with a grim expression, I can feel it darkening my face that the schedule isn't written in Braille and I remember that I already had gym this morning and stinking Bella repeated her own damn schedule so many times while we walked that I memorized hers. And we aren't even in the same grade!

"Actually you have Free Period with me and Emmett." Jasper says in his unique, and totally freaky, calm voice. There's something else in his voice too, it almost sounds like he's straining it or something. Like he's in pain but he's good at hiding it. It'd be easier to tell about all this if I could see his facial expression.

"Oh. Uh thanks." My irritation is growing but abruptly a strange feeling of calm and peace settles around me, washing away my frustration like a wave.

"I'll see you later Jaylea," Rose and Alice say this simultaneously and I focus my ears on their ghost footsteps leaving me. Well okay then.

"C'mon Jaylea. We don't bite … much." Emmett says and Jasper laughs lightly at this. I feel like I'm missing out on some joke but shrug it off; if they wanna tell me than they can just tell me.

It's hard to follow their footsteps, even with them standing on both my sides so I just listen to the sound of their breathing and try to focus on the turns we make and how many steps it takes.

We're still in the same building as Music Class so it doesn't take long for Jasper to say, "We're here, it's the library. This is where we usually come for Free." Huh. I had been wondering what to do during Free Period. "If you have any homework you could get it done here."

"Oh, please! Jaylea isn't a nerd like you are Jazz!" Emmett guffaws and I hear and feel the air move as he punches Jasper in the shoulder, or at least that's what I'm guessing. It sounded like two boulders colliding.

"Actually, I guess I should read some. I mean, what else is there to do?" I say following their quiet breathing to a table. Jazz puts my hand, his cold skin made me flinch, on the back of a wooden chair and I slide into it, careful not to fall on my butt. I hear Jasper sit down next to me and Emmett across from me.

"Well, we could go outside. Maybe a quick hike before school lets out?" There's a smirk in Emmetts voice and again the rock hitting another rock sound bounces off the walls, Emmett grunts. Did Jazz hit him?

"Yeah sure. Sounds great." Okay, hiking and blindness is never a good combination, especially in this wild terrain, but I figure what the hell? I won't be out there alone.

It's a short walk outside with Emmett and Jasper on my sides. Every now and then one of their arms or hands will brush against my arms or hands and I gotta say they are freezing! I can feel how cold they are through my jacket for goodness sake!

"So, Jaylea, what do you think of Forks?" Emmett asks, clearly setting himself up to make a joke or something. I can tell by the tone of his deep voice.

"Well, for starts, it's really dark." I say as innocent as I can. Jasper chuckles but Emmett booms out a thunderous roar of laughter that makes me jump. Is this man ever quiet?

I can feel the elevation as we start walking up a hill and Jazz places a cold hand on my elbow to help me. I mutter thanks, never fully grateful for help as usual. I mean, yes I need some help getting around _sometimes_, but that doesn't mean I want it.

We pass around small jokes for the rest of the hike, every now and then I trip over some damn root or branch but I never meet the wet ground 'cause of Jazz's and Emmett's crazy reflexes. A couple times one of them will lift me over a log or something and I force myself not to flinch at their icy touch, not wanting to be rude to the only people who seem to accept me as a friend. But of course I dare not hope for friendship from them, no it'd just hurt too much when I realize the joke to all this.

They tell me the story of how they all came together too. Turns out only Jasper and Rose are actually related, they are twins, and they were all adopted by Dr. Carlisle and Esme Cullen. Also, Jazz is dating Alice and Emmett is with Rosalie. This is a little weird sure but who am I, the freaky, loner, blind-girl to judge?

"So, where are we anyway?" I ask as the ground started to feel more level but we never did turn around.

"Forks, Washington." Emmett reply's I can hear the sarcastic smirk on his face.

"Em, if I could see where your face was, I'd slap it." I say to my new clown of a friend with mock irritation.

"Don't worry Jaylea I'll do it for you." Jasper says politely. Then there's a whistle in the air and again that rock-hit-rock noise which echoes off the trees.

"Ouch," Emmett mumbles.

I giggle some, can't help myself. I actually made friends. Wow.

"Jaylea?" Jasper asks.

"Hmm?"

"When I first saw you in the cafeteria you seemed sad, and upset. Why?"

That's strange, I always thought I was really good at hiding my emotions.

"Um," is all I can think of to say. I was sad 'cause Bella, who I had assumed was starting to like me, had ditched me and that too pissed me off and I was mad at myself because I didn't go to sit with them even if they didn't want me to. I was "upset" also because this town, this school, these people, was turning out to be just like all the others. Until I met the Cullen's that is.

Emmett laughs again and says, "Jeez, Jazz why do you care hmm? You aren't getting a little too close to our Jaylea here, hmm?" I feel my face go hot and the rock-hit-rock sound comes outta nowhere again, louder this time.

"Well Jasper? I mean I know I'm awesome but I don't think Alice would totally approve." I say, elbowing him and possibly giving myself a bruise. Ouch, what are these guys made of stone or something?

Emmett explodes in more laughter again and Jazz joins him. I do too.

When we get back to the school Jazz goes over to their siblings but Emmett escorts me to Bella's truck.

"I think my brother, Edward, kinda hates Bella." Emmett says out of nowhere.

"Why?"

My question sends him backtracking. "Uh … I don't know. Just … he's an idiot." And with that I can hear his whisper footsteps walk faintly away.

"Well, goodbye to you too." I mutter sarcastically. I was wondering if he heard me but his booming laughter sounding not too far away answered my silent question.

"Who was that?" I sigh when I recognize Philips familiar voice and scent.

"Emmett Cullen."

Philip grunts. "What'd he want with you?" His voice is angry and suspicious; I turn towards him in the truck.

"Nothing, he was just walking me over here. What's wrong?"

"I don't know he's just … creepy. That's all."

I straighten me shoulders, my chin jerks up. "He's actually really nice and funny. You'd like him."

"Yeah, maybe. I don't know."

Bella comes in, slamming the door in the process and the truck roars to life. I try to imagine the stares of other teens at her loud vehicle but frown when I truly can't. I can barely imagine what other people look like anymore.

"So…" Philip draws the word out before saying, "Bella, how was your day?" He asks even though it's pretty obvious that her day sucked. Or she's just pissed that she has to drive us home which is silly since we're neighbors.

Bella sighs heavily and drives down the road. I get a little nervous. Anger, rain, and a crappy truck never mix together well.

Not caring if he gets embarrassed, I check to make sure Philips seat is buckled.

Satisfied that my little brother hasn't forgotten to buckle up I relax in my seat. Bella, who's obviously not in a very good mood, takes a long time getting us home.

I'm starting to wonder exactly where it is she's taking us when Philip asks, "Um, Bella, where are we going?"

What? What the hell? Where is she taking us?

A familiar panic starts to set in. The rain beating against the trucks roof and windows is so freaking loud!

"Oh!" Bella exclaims as if she's just now remembering that we're in the truck with her. "I forgot to mention, I have to stop by the grocery store. Sorry." Her voice is strained, still pissed off I guess, while the truck jerks to a stop.

I follow Philip out the door, the rain soaking through my jacket. In the short seconds it takes us to hurry inside, I'm already shaking.

"We won't b-be here long; I j-just have to get a f-f-few things." Bella stutters, her teeth clattering.

I keep close to Philip while we walk through the small store, leaving Bella to buy whatever it is she needs.

"So, how was your day?" I ask. The store is warm and toasty; my teeth stop rattling quickly.

"Fine." His voice tells me it was much more than _fine_.

With a sigh I ask, "Okay, what's _her_ name?"

Philip chuckles his amazingly soothing laugh and says, "Leah Clearwater."

"Cool, so is she nice?"

"Uh, I don't know. I didn't really get a chance to talk with her. She was picking up her brothers friend, Cory, from school."

I stop walking, my hand finding his wrist. "Philip, how old is this Leah Clearwater?"

He hesitates, "Well, I think she's a senior." Philip gives a nervous laugh and continues, "And I think she goes to school on the reservation, La Push. Remember when we looked it up on the computer-?" I cut him off.

"Senior? You're kidding!" My voice rises up an octave.

"I don't know for sure if she's a senior! Hell, she could just be a tall freshman that can drive for all I know!" He defends himself, the well-known sarcastic note returning to his voice. I scowl.

"Philip-" My brother cuts me off this time.

"Calm down will ya! I'm not a baby anymore 'sis. And I mean it's not like we even talked! I don't even know if she saw me!"

I take a couple deep breaths.

"Alright, but I definitely wanna meet her now."

"Okay," Philip says nonchalantly, "fine. Not like I got a chance with her anyway."

My brow furrows. "What do you mean? Oh, c'mon Philip! Of course you got a chance with her; I'm just playing the 'over-protective big sister' role that's all."

"Yeah, well. You didn't see her Jaylea. And I'm not saying that to be a jerk I mean really she's like… astounding." Okay, that's weird. Philip isn't really one to use words like "astounding" not that he isn't smart, he's just more laid-back. There's a tone in his voice that I've never heard before.

"Wow, she must really be something. A real looker I'm guessing." I bump my shoulder lightly against his arm.

"You have no idea. She's … beyond belief. Yeah, that's what she is: beyond belief." There's not sarcasm or laughter in his voice. Philip is dead serious. I think this is a first.

I take another deep breath. Ugh, my little bro is changing into a man. When the hell did that happen?

"Okay. Leah Clearwater. What do you know about her?"

"Just what Cory told me today; she's Quilete, lives on the reservation, and her little brother is Seth Clearwater. I met him today, he's a cool guy."

Well Cory certainly didn't tell him much.

I vaguely notice the rain stopping outside, the sound of it beating against the roof waning.

"Well … she sounds very …" I can't form the words, all I'm trying to figure out is how in the world did the woman get Philip Moore to feel so strongly about her without even saying one freaking word to him.

"Okay, okay, enough about my day." Philip says before the silence gets to long. "What about you huh? I saw you talking to that big Cullen guy. He seems… big."

"Yeah Emmett's nice. A total jokester but nice."

"Really? Everyone else in school thinks they're a bunch of freaks. No offense. And they all seem very," he pauses searching for the right word, "nonsocial."

My chin jerks up. "They're not freaks! And who cares if they don't have a huge crowd of friends. I don't either!"

"Hey! Hey! I said 'no offense' remember? Chill Jaylea."

"Yeah I get it. Sorry 'bout that." Another deep breath.

Philip chuckles again and lays an arm lazily over my shoulders. "Well, if you feel really bad about it, you could write my essay for me."

"Ha-ha. Not gonna happen, little bro." I elbow him teasingly in the stomach while laughing.

I recognize the strawberry smell coming our way and turn towards it.

"Hey," Bella says, she sounds calmer now but still fuming. "I'm ready. Let's go."

We follow her to the door, Philips arm still draped over my shoulders.

Shuffling through the double doors another group of people are walking in, my right shoulder bumps into one of them.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"It's fine- oh! Hey Philip!" A young male voice I certainly don't recognize exclaims.

"Hi Seth." Philip greets him. Ah, so this is Seth. Is his sister, Leah, here? I'm guessing yes since Philip just tensed up. "This is my big sister, Jaylea."

"Hi," I say, forcing a smile.

"H-hey." Seth stutters, sounding embarrassed.

"Well, um, we gotta go head home. Bella Swan is driving us." And with that Philip half shoves half leads me to the truck.

Inside I ask him, "Is Leah why you were trying to get outta there?"

"Uh … yes."

"Huh. Why did Seth sound embarrassed?" I really am confused about that one. Either Seth was shocked by my utter blindness and embarrassed he bumped into a blind girl or … I actually can't think of another reason.

"I think he_ likes_ you."

"What?" I ask bewildered. He must be joking.

Philip sighs. "Bella would you please explain to my ignorant sister that she's pretty."

Bella laughs a little. "He's right Jaylea; you aren't just pretty you're very beautiful." While I'm flattered I'm also irritated. Okay, so Bella considers me beautiful. Philip thinks I'm pretty. If only I could actually tell what I look like! It'd be nice to know!

I think about asking mom often what I look like but it just sounds to self-absorbed a question.

The rest of our ride home is spent in awkward silence. I get the feeling Bella isn't really paying attention to anything right now and Philip is listening to his I-pod. I sigh and turn mine on and let the hard sounds of Korn tune out the world.


End file.
